Page 66 of Kyle

ME: GREAT. SEE YOU AT TEN

SUTTON: OK. GOODNIGHT

ME: SLEEP TIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sutton—

I hear Kyle’s pickup truck and glance out the window. By the time I reach him, he’s at the passenger side to hold the door for me.

My eyes scan over the trailer. “Looks like you’ve been busy. All the mud’s gone.”

“It was a mess, wasn’t it? I spent an hour scrubbing down the RV before I returned it to Green.”

“I should have helped you,” I say.

“Nah. I took it to the clubhouse and had the prospects help me.”

“Oh.” I slip inside, and he goes around and gets behind the wheel. The truck shifts with his weight. It smells like his soap, and I breathe deep, stealing any bit of him I can get.

I’ve thought a lot about things, and I know things can’t go on the way they have. I have feelings for Rafe, but I’ve come to realize they’ll never be the kind of feelings that are made to last a lifetime—the kind someone uses to build a lifelong relationship.

I have those feelings for Kyle, and that makes this situation impossible. I can’t come between two brothers who are as close as these two men are.

I’ll have to decide how to end things with Rafe in a way that doesn’t leave him blaming or hating Kyle. Though, I’m not even sure how strongly Rafe would react.

In the meantime, I can’t leave Kyle hanging with no help at the food truck, even though it's becoming an increasingly unbearable situation to be working in such close quarters. Beingnear him drives me wild, and it’s crazy to put myself or both of us through this absolute torment.

We set up and work the lunch rush.

At one point, a van for the local news station pulls up, and a cameraman climbs out. Behind him, I recognize one of the local newscasters. Her name is Amy, and she does a fluff spot called About Town with Amy.

I peer out the window. “I wonder what Channel Five is doing here.”

Kyle dips his head. “No clue.”

He gets back to making food, and Amy approaches the truck.

I smile and wave. “Hi, Amy. What can we get you?”

“Hi, there. I was looking for Kyle.” She cranes to peer around me.

“Oh, sure.” I glance over at him. “She wants to talk to you.”

He frowns, busy with what he’s doing. “Who does?”

“The lady from Channel Five. Amy Armstrong.”

His eyes shift to me, then dart to the window. “She does?” He walks over and leans down. “I’m Kyle. What can I do for you?”

“Could I speak with you for a couple of minutes?”

“I’m kind of busy.”

“I promise it won’t take long.”

He drags in a breath.

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